From Start to Finish
by December Writing Dragon
Summary: As Alfred's strength wanes, Ivan and Alfred face devastating news, finding strength in each other. Ivan must be a source of brightness for the man who he came to consider his sun, his everything. RusAme oneshot. Warning for implied eventual character death.


Written for a tumblr ask prompt, to write something around "I can't breathe!" Reviews are welcome!

 **From Start to Finish**

Ivan knew things would be touch and go at this stage. Alfred's stamina had depleted horribly as the weeks went by. The once boisterous man who could drag a car up a hill by himself now was left winded walking down the stairs. All cigarette packs had been tossed from the house. Alfred knew he would not be able to smoke again, but that didn't mean they couldn't ease the temptation. So, Ivan found himself quitting cold turkey as well, washing every article of his and Alfred's clothing to erase any hint of the smell. It was a miniscule price to pay for renewing some of Alfred's happiness. If surrendering more would ensure his good health, Ivan would have forfeited his own sense of sight and hearing and speech and _everything_. Everything could be taken from him, as long as he had Alfred. Because his beloved Fedya was all that mattered to him. He was his life, his love, his sun.

Surely nothing could extinguish the sun.

The sun was supposed to be eternal.

But the flames began to flicker.

Alfred did not know at first that Ivan would sneak away to review plans in case any health emergency should arise. He found out when a particularly bad bought of coughing had woken him from his slumber, and he found the bed empty. When Alfred dragged himself downstairs to see Ivan's solitary figure pouring over paperwork and medicine, he was confused.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Alfred had asked, his mind jumping to the worst possible scenarios, all involving Ivan's love for him dwindling to nothing.

Ivan had looked up with tired eyes and explained he liked to recite procedures for whenever Alfred may need more medical attention.

"But we're fine how we are," Alfred had insisted.

"I know, dorogoi, but this is for when what I do is not enough."

"It's always been enough. I don't need anymore- I don't want a hospital! I'm sorry, I know how exhausting this is for you. If you've had enough-"

"Never!"

"Then why are you never around more than you need to be?"

"I try to be around every second!"

"But you don't want to be!"

Back and forth it went, until at last Ivan cried "Stop! Stop it! We must not fight! Not for a moment. We cannot fight!" And before either of them could register what was happening, they had collapsed into each others arms, Alfred gasping through sobs "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean any of it, I love you so much,"

"I love you too, so much, so, so much it hurts,"

"I never wanted any of this to happen. I just…I just wanted us to be happy. I'm sorry, so sorry…I'm…I'm just…scared,"

And so Ivan lessened his reviews, and approached the situation determined to be brave enough for the both of them. The true test of how prepared they were would come much sooner than either hoped for.

"Ivan…Ivan, I-I can't breathe!"

Then words were straight out of a nightmare as Ivan rushed into action, not sparing a second to let his mind wander, not trusting himself to succumb to the fear plaguing his heart. All that mattered was keeping Alfred breathing, letting him feel safe…

He waited at the hospital for six hours, pacing a mindless trail through the waiting room as strangers worked on his Fedya. When they called him in, one look from the doctor told him all he needed to know.

"It's not good," the doctor confessed, his face forlorn. "We have him stable, but he'll need to be on a breathing machine from now on. We have some medication, but it will only treat, not cure, I'm sure you know…"

"Da," Ivan croaked. Breathing machine. That meant their time was truly limited now.

"You can go in now, if you want. He's asleep." Numbly, Ivan rose to his feet. He did not remember telling his feet to take any steps, yet away he went, following the doctor to Alfred's room. He looked so peaceful, so serene, so without pain that for one wild moment Ivan feared he had already passed. But then he saw the gentle risen and fall of his chest as air was pumped in through his nostrils thanks to the little buds there, air that his own body no longer supplied enough of. Ivan sat on the chair beside the bed, holding one of Alfred's frail hands in his own. Spring had always been there season. It was spring when they first met- greeting each other with barbed words and the promise of competition. It was spring when Alfred had found himself standing at his doorstep, blushing furiously and holding a bouquet of sunflowers. Now, Ivan wondered if this spring would come only for him to bury his beloved. As Alfred slumbered, Ivan allowed himself to cry silently beside him. It was some time later, eyes swollen red and Alfred beginning to stir, that Ivan summoned his resolve. When Alfred opened his eyes, he would be greeted with the warmest smile Ivan could muster. He would ensure Alfred had no reason to be afraid, would be met with no discomfort. As for whether Alfred would see the flowers bloom…

They would just have to wait, and cherish every moment in between.


End file.
